


The Story of Stevie Ray

by Nightzilla333



Category: Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Family Relationships - Freeform, Fighting, Focuses mostly on OC, I hate it, Like, Lots of OCs - Freeform, Survival, This is a rewrite from one I wrote years ago, Zombies, and there is a dog at some point, but i love it, she got better, still kinda mary sueish, the original is still up on fanfiction, there was a mary sue, they don't stay for very long if they're there, various mentions of other characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 21:26:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7331215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightzilla333/pseuds/Nightzilla333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A seventeen year old Canadian girl is sent down to Savannah to help her elderly Aunt out two days before the outbreak in the States. After the brutal murder of her Aunt, she has to figure out how to survive the zombie apocalypse on her own, and gain full control over her telekinetic abilities. This is the Story of Stevie-Ray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Story of Stevie Ray

For as long as I could remember, I was told to hide my unique abilities from the people around me. I was to never tell a soul who I was, or what I could do. I never really understood _why_ I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone when I was younger, but I was younger. I didn’t question it. Now, even though I’m older I don’t question it, because I was used to it. I kind of understand now, better than I did when I was younger. People don’t like different. I was home schooled until a few years after I hit puberty, and every day it’s stressed that I don’t show emotion… or a lot of it, anyways.

Emotion for me is… bad? It’s not necessarily good. It was worse when I was younger. I can’t really control my powers very well when I let my emotion take full control from me. That’s not to say that I don’t have emotions, cause I do, I just don’t show it well. When my emotions take a larger hold over me, I tend to move things with my mind. Which I know isn’t normal. Which is why I have to hide it.

Ever since I was little I have been seeing a doctor and had strange tests done to me. They didn’t hurt. They still don’t hurt. I mean, the worst thing is a needle prick for when they draw blood, and even that isn’t very common. Like, annual check-up kind of thing. It’s a basic doctor’s routine, at the beginning, anyways. Then I go for brain scans and I get hooked up to these things that get attached to the head. I was told once what they were called, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it is. It measures brain waves. Once I’m hooked up or being scanned I’m told to try to move things with my mind. Usually I can, but it makes me get migraines after a long period of time. Really bad ones. If I continue to push myself for too long, even after the migraines start to bother me and what not, I get nose bleeds. The doctor has only done it once, and says it dangerous for me to push myself for too long. We’ve been working on my endurance ever since I started getting better at controlling it.

I do okay for being in school, I mean, I’m not spectacular, but I’m not crap either. I’m surprisingly good at gym, and at art, and I’m okay at English, but I suck at math and at the sciences. I’m not in any after school activities, and I don’t really have any friends. I’m quiet, and I’m that kid that no one really knows, so they tend to avoid me, but I can communicate pretty well when it comes to teamwork. I don’t really know how to react around people my age, even though I’ve been around people my age for four years now, but I missed the necessary points for being able to get along with people my own age because I didn’t interact with anyone my own age when I was younger.

I have violent dreams sometimes, of times when I was younger, of times I know didn’t happen, but felt so real that it scares me. I used to have them when I was a lot younger, about torture and murder and blood and kidnapping. After the first time that nightmare happened I woke up screaming and I was terrified of the Doctor for years afterwards. I’m still apprehensive towards them, but this doctor I have has been the same doctor that I have had for eight years now. He’s basically an uncle to me.

My mother died in a car crash a few years ago, struck by a drunk driver when she was walking home from work. She used to work at a bar, and she was closing that night. We found out that night. She died when she was hit, so at least she didn’t suffer.

My dad’s been over-protective of me since her death, but I’m okay with it. It just shows he cares. He’s kind of emotionally constipated, like me.

My name is Stevie-Ray, and this is my story.


End file.
